Title: Fade Away
Author: Kerry
Genre: Angst
Summary: She is everything he desires. You are everything he could never want.
Rating: R
Author's Note: This is my first CSI Miami fiction, so please be nice. Pure angst. Because sometimes, everyone needs to cry.
You watch them together. His eyes darken when she speaks, whether with anger or desire you're not sure. Anger for the rules he, himself has put in place. Desire to break them. Desire to throw away his fear and his loyalty and to finally allow himself to indulge in her. To be with her. To love her. You hate him for that desire. You hate him for the way he looks at her. But most of all you hate him for the way he doesn't look at you.
He reaches forward, brushing a stray piece of hair from her face. You close your eyes, mentally gathering every emotion you have. You pull them from the darkest reaches of your mind, and slowly, you begin to pack them away into a small box, fully intending to banish them forever. Every feeling of joy and fear seeps from you, leaving you surrounded in a vast coldness. You relish in it. You reach forward, wrapping the emptiness around you. You feel nothing. And you love it.
The box is full now. You grasp the lock, eager to clasp it shut until the end of time. But abruptly a memory rushes past you, making your head swirl. A simple memory. A smile. A laugh. And just like that, the box that you had so meticulously packed begins to crack. The emotions surge towards you, and you flee, desperate to remain in your vacant abyss. But they surround you. They devour you. You can feel the joy. And the hope. But you can also feel the fear and the pain. The overwhelming pain.
You try to cling to the hope. Desperate to feel something, anything, but the unbearable pain. But it's no use. The pain envelops you. Suffocates you. Consumes you.
He fingers her ebony locks again. The pain grows. She is everything you are not. She is tall and dark and deadly. You are small and fair and pure. She is everything he desires. You are everything he could never want.
You tell yourself it doesn't matter. You tell yourself you don't care that he'd rather have dark than light. You tell yourself it's not important that he prefers night to day. You tell yourself it doesn't matter. You tell yourself it doesn't hurt you. But you don't believe it. You never believe it.
Sometimes, when the moon is bright and the stars fill the sky, you come close. Sometimes the light gives you hope. But then the moon disappears, and the city lights block the view of the stars, and the night becomes black, the same consuming black of her dark eyes. And you are once again forced to face the truth. It does matter. It's the only thing that matters.
He reaches forward, grasping her long hand in his. They fit together, his paw barely containing hers. Your hand would fit much better in his. You know this. Your hand is small and delicate. He could surround it, the same way he has surrounded your thoughts. Your heart
He leans forward and she smiles. Yes, your hand would fit much better than hers. But it is your heart, you realize, that would never match his. His heart is broken down the middle, cut jagged. Only he could cut the perfect match. And your heart will never be cut to match his. You will never complete his heart. He won't let you. He will never let you.
You walk away from them, desperate for the safety of your apartment. You focus on the road during the drive, determined to keep your mind from betraying you. It is not until you are in the safety of your bathroom, the razor blade tucked in your hand than you open your thoughts. Your heart.
The cold metal presses against your wrist, and pain surges through your body. It is a different pain. A welcome pain. A pain that has nothing to do with him.
You drop to the floor as the strength leaves you. Your head pounds and your heart finally shatters to pieces. All of the love you could have had for him surges forward, suffocating you.
The pain surges forward to. Consuming you. Always consuming you.
The tears roll down your face, burning your skin. Every memory you have of him is filled with joy. With hope. You cling to it.
The light slowly begins to fade. The darkness reminds you of her eyes and you fight it. But then you remember his face. His eyes. His smile. He will never love you.
The pain becomes unbearable.
You reach forward, searching for something to banish the pain. Anything. The darkness moves closer, pushing his memory back. And you welcome it.
The darkness grows stronger, and all hope begins to fade. But so does all pain.
As the darkness finally consumes you, you think that maybe that's a fair trade.